Paranoia
by silverjazz
Summary: On Friday afternoon, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny planned to hang out who knew things could get so complicated? A twoshot tale of the South Park boys.
1. Denial

So, I was watching scary movies with my friends at this Halloween party I went to, and the next day, got this really awesome idea, slightly based on it (well, the movie part…)

I'm also experimenting with a different style of writing. It's more dialog and interpretation than paragraphs of detail. I want to see how it works out. I hope it doesn't seem forced and sounds true to the characters…

Summary: It was supposed to be just another sleepover…

Just so everyone knows, the boys are juniors in high school and can't drive yet, which is why they walk home (though Stan will get his license in a few months) and it's a Friday.

And yes, some of it may seem a little overdramatic, but when you're scared, you can get really paranoid.

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I don't own Mario Kart and I don't own NASCAR racing. I don't own Amityville Horror either, which I'm pretty grateful for, it was scary!

* * *

**Paranoia**

"Hey, Kyle, your mom said it was okay for you to come over, right?"

"Yeah, she actually-"

"Wasn't a bitch for once?" Cartman interrupted.

"Don't call my mom a bitch!"

"Don't lie to yourself, Jew."

"Shut up, fatass!" the black-haired boy burst out.

"Stan…?"

"Why the hell are you defending the Jew?" Cartman asked bewildered.

"Boys, I will not have you disrupting my class! Go to the principal's office right now!" Mrs. Garrison fumed.

The boys slowly got up from their seats and walked to the front of the room. Each received their own small piece of green paper that would guarantee them an audience with the principal. Grumbling, the four boys walked out of the class room and took a left down the hallway that would lead to the dreaded office.

Kyle, who was nervously crumpling the green paper, voiced his troubles. "Oh crap, my mom's going to kill me!"

"Don't worry about it, dude, we just won't tell her,"

"(Stan, Kyle can't lie to his mom for shit.)" Kenny reminded Stan.

"True, Kenny, so true," Cartman agreed.

Kyle glared at his companions and walked ahead angrily. Stan watched him for a moment before running up to his friend. Kenny followed the two shortly after.

"Ugh, wait up, fags!"

* * *

A light snow had started to fall by the time school had gotten out. When the boys were released from detention, the snow had become much thicker.

"Dude, I can't wait till we can drive...legally. It's such a long walk from here!"

"Well, if _someone _hadn't shouted in class we could have taken the bus," Cartman said accusingly while staring at Stan.

"Oh, I'm sorry. 'Cause it's not your fault at all. You're just _so_ perfect."

Cartman shrugged, "Well, I can't deny it."

Kenny rolled his eyes and tried to get the arguing boys' attention. "(Guys, stop walking! We're here!)" Kenny pointed to the house a few feet in front of them.

"And we didn't freeze! Your house better be warm," Cartman threatened as the four boys ran to the door.

Stan rolled his eyes and took out his key to unlock the door as the other three watched him. They shuffled into the house, entering a dark, vacant family room.

"Mom? ...Dad? ...Shelly?" Stan called out, turning on the lights in the family room.

Kyle went into the kitchen and turned on some of the lights in there.

"Stan, your parents left you a note," Kyle called from the kitchen.

"Okay, dude."

Stan walked over to Kyle, who stood by the refrigerator, to read the note.

"(It's getting really dark out, really fast. Not to mention, the snow's pretty bad now, too,)" Kenny observed aloud.

"…and?"

Kenny shrugged indifferently as he and Cartman walked into the kitchen to see what Stan's parents had to say.

* * *

"Sweeet!"

"They are only going to be gone till tomorrow, dude, not all weekend." Stan reasoned.

"(Can we invite some hot chicks?)" Kenny asked hopefully.

Stan rolled his eyes and went over the television set in the family room, the others following closely behind. He pulled out his game sphere and four controllers.

"Which game?" Stan asked without looking up.

"Mario Kart!"

"He doesn't even have that game, fatass," Kyle spat as he grabbed a controller for himself and handed one to Kenny.

"You would know, fag, wouldn't you?" Cartman shot back as he snatched Kyle's controller.

"Here, Kyle," Stan said, giving Kyle the third controller.

"Thanks. Can we play NASCAR Racing?" Kyle requested.

Stan nodded and Kenny shrugged, impartial as long as he could play. Stan put the game in and sat on the couch next to Kyle. Cartman was still standing in front of the television, blocking their view.

"Move it, Cartman. We can't see," Kyle demanded.

"I think I won't. I never agreed to this game."

"God dammit, Cartman, we don't care! Sit down and play!"

"Whatevah," Cartman replied, although he did take a seat next to Kenny on the couch.

* * *

Stan's stomach rumbled. "Dude, playing video games for six hours really takes a lot outta you."

The other three nodded in agreement.

"We're just not in shape like we used to be…" Kyle noted wistfully.

Stan got up and shut off the game sphere and television. The boys left their controllers on the floor and trailed into the kitchen.

"Cheesy Poofs…" Cartman muttered while rummaging through a couple cabinets.

"Second shelf in the first cabinet," Kyle informed.

"Thanks, fag."

"Fatass…" Kyle muttered angrily at his offensive friend.

"Think of a new comeback, my Jewish friend. Yours is getting rather old," Cartman retorted smartly, although he did take Kyle's advice and found his beloved Cheesy Poofs.

Stan just shook his head at the two. "You guys want anything besides that…you know, like _real _food?"

"Cheesy Poofs are real food!"

Kenny rolled his eyes but shook his head 'no'. "(Cheesy Poofs are good for me.)"

"I'm gonna make some popcorn, okay?" Kyle replied.

"Sure, dude."

The boys, with the exception of Kyle who was monitoring the popcorn, went back to the family room and sat on the couch. Cartman seated himself in the middle of the couch, a box of Cheesy Proofs on each side of him.

"So, guys, what do you want to do?" Stan asked after a few moments of silence.

Kenny opened his mouth, but Cartman interrupted him before he could voice his ideas. "No, Kenny. That's a bad Kenny. We don't want any drinks or crap you saw in the fridge."

Kenny looked down and mumbled to himself.

"Oh, c'mon, dude. What else were you going to suggest?"

"(A movie!)"

"Oh…" Stan and Cartman were taken aback. "Sorry, dude."

Kenny just waved it off. "(It's fine…as long as I get to pick which movie.)"

"No! You'll pick some crappy movie! I want to pick! Respect my authoritah!"

Stan rolled his eyes. "Sure Kenny, let's see what there is…"

Stan went over to the bookcase filled with old VCRs and DVDs. He skimmed through the ones his mom had recently bought. "Hey, here's one! It's called Amityville Horrors. I've never seen it, but Clyde told me about it and said it was really good."

"(I heard about it. It's a scary movie, so you may want to check with Kyle about that since, well, you know…)"

Cartman immediately expressed his opinion after Kenny said that. "We **must **watch it!"

Stan just gave him a slight glare and put the DVD into the DVD player and got it to the menu screen. He sat down on the couch with the clicker in his hand.

"Hey, Kyle, we're gonna watch the movie Clyde was telling us about yesterday, okay?" Stan yelled from the couch.

Kyle, who didn't quite remember what movie Stan was talking about complied. "Just give me a second, the popcorns almost done."

* * *

Ten minutes into the movie and Kyle was quivering. Really, he was trying to be brave. It's not like he wanted to be a wuss in front of his friends, or the fatass, but he couldn't help that it was so terrifying.

Stan could hear Kyle mumbling 'why me' as if it was punishment. He didn't really see how his friend was scared of a fictional psychotic killer, but he wouldn't let his friend scare himself shitless over this.

Stan reached out a hand and patted Kyle on the back. Instead of calming him down, Kyle jumped in shock at the unforeseen contact and let out a small yelp. Cartman just rolled his eyes at the frightened boy and continued to watch the movie.

"Sorry, Kyle," Stan whispered.

Kyle just nodded shakily, unable to tear his gaze away from the horrifying images that flashed onto the screen.

* * *

Now, Kyle was shaking uncontrollably, clutching onto Stan's arm for dear life. It's not like he was a wimp normally, it's just that this was his one weakness: horror films. Kyle's mother had protected her son from any contact with horror films, or any other movie rated above PG. It had taken Kyle a while to produce the guts to secretly defy his mother and watch such movies. After all, Sheila Broflovski was scarier then any monster a filmmaker could create. So, by the time young Kyle saw such images, the lack of not seeing them and going to watching them at the darkest hours of the night with his friends did a number on his nerves.

After the dog had tuned into a grotesque demon and had been shot, Kyle could barely handle it. Stan, being the good friend he was, kept comforting him while watching the movie. Stan found it hard to not glance down at his friend every few seconds, just to check on him. Stan kept missing bits of the movie, but he didn't really mind.

* * *

The movie reached its peak. The screen was filled with images of deformed demons clawing at the human flesh of the man, the little girl hanging herself, the chamber of bloody walls and coffins of rotting corpses, and much more Kyle never wanted to see again. He buried his face in Stan shoulder and Stan put and arm around him, lightly rubbing his back.

"It's okay, Kyle," Stan whispered, his eyes glued to the television screen.

Kyle nodded hesitantly, still shaking, but moderately under control with Stan's reassurance.

* * *

Finally, the flickering lights of the television ceased to illuminate the room, signifying the end of the movie. Kyle let out a last whimper, still clutching onto Stan as the image of the girl turning into dust replayed itself in Kyle's head.

"Ugh, you fags totally ruined the movie. Get some balls, Jew." Cartman complained.

Kyle didn't even care Cartman was insulting his sexuality and religion, he was too preoccupied with his fear.

"Shut up, Cartman. It's not his fault," Stan retorted for Kyle, who was slowly coming out of his daze. He didn't bother to turn off the television and let the white and black fuzzy screen remain.

"Aw, how sweet. You're protecting your faggy boyfriend."

"Cartman-" Stan growled, still holding the slightly relieved Kyle around the shoulders.

"(I think it's hot,)" Kenny interjected innocently.

Kyle, who had finally started listening to the conversation, looked at Kenny in pure horror.

Cartman threw his hands up in the air in an outburst. "I'm surrounded!"

Stan just rolled his eyes at the overdramatic boy.

"Yeah, well screw you guys, I'm 'a going home!"

"Okay, fatass," Kyle said, happy for the first time in a couple hours.

Cartman frowned and went to open the door, trying to push it open to no avail.

"I'm leaving!" Cartman reiterated, turning the doorknob on the front door and trying again.

The other boys stared at him in disbelief.

"I am! Watch me…" Cartman struggled with the door for a few more seconds.

"God dammit! What the hell is wrong with this door?"

Stan shrugged, not very concerned with the situation.

"We're snowed in!" Kyle noticed, seeing the large snowflakes still falling onto the snow covered ground. He ran to the television and changed the station to the local news station where a weather reporter stood in front of a map with a huge storm circle covering their state.

"-blizzard worse then the blizzard of '68 in New England has hit Colorado. We warn everyone to stay inside and keep warm. Unfortunately, this storm was unforeseen and we don't know how much worse it will get and for how long. Ration your supplies and be careful because-" and the screen went blank, shutting off along with every other electrical appliance in the South Park district.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	2. Paranoia

First off, I am so sorry I took so long to write this. I got sick for two weeks on and off and couldn't get anything done. Then there was the make-up work. Then I just started a job and track, which takes up all of my after-school and weekend time. Then I got the flu and it just would not leave and I had a bad reaction to the medicine. I tried to use vacation, but the holidays got in the way, too. Sorry on two levels: the excuses and the wait.

I wanted to do this in a one-shot, but as I wrote it out, it seemed so much better as a two-shot. Unfortunately, that shortens the first part down quite a bit, as it was meant as an introduction. It's not extraordinarily long, but I do hope it was amusing.

I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint anyone. The story really isn't based on Amityville Horror, I just needed a scary motivation. I saw it and it really got to me out, especially the bathroom scene, which is why I wrote this story. I had this one scene in my mind that I thought would be hilarious, and so I had to create a story to incorporate it, hence the story. You'll see it when you read it.

Summary: It was supposed to be just another sleepover…

Note to readers: Just so everyone knows, the boys are juniors in high school and can't drive yet, which is why they walk home (though Stan will get his license in a few months) and it's a Friday.

And yes, some of it may seem a little overdramatic, but when you're scared, you can get really paranoid.

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I don't own Mario Kart and I don't own NASCAR racing. I don't own Amityville Horror either, which I'm pretty grateful for, it was scary!

* * *

**Paranoia Part Two

* * *

**

"AHHHHHHHH!"

"Kyle! Kyle, it's okay," Stan rushed over to his frantic friend and hugged him.

"No, Stan, its not okay! We're home alone in a blizzard worse then any blizzard before! The fatass is here, so we're gonna starve-"

"Ay!"

"-and why do we have to be careful? Why, Stan, why? Is there a killer on the loose? Why!"

Stan took the raving Kyle by his shoulder and shook him.

"God dammit, Jew. I knew we shouldn't have let you come."

Kenny elbowed Cartman in the ribs hard, effectively shutting him up and earning a very pissed-off glare.

Stan nodded his thanks over his shoulder to Kenny before turning back to his paranoid friend. "Kyle, you're letting your imagination get to you. Why don't you lay down and get some sleep? By tomorrow my mom and dad will be home and we can go build a snowman or something. It will be **okay.**"

Kyle, as incoherent as he was, let Stan lead him upstairs to his bedroom. Stan motioned for Kyle to lay down as he took his wooden computer-desk chair and placed it beside the edge of his bed.

Kyle stared up at the blank ceiling for over ten minutes, praying for sleep to overcome him. He restlessly rolled over to face a sleeping Stan, who had laid his head on the bed. Kyle gently removed Stan's hat, which was about to fall off his head. Under his hat was the dark, thin hair that Stan had grown out to the point where you could see it from under the hat. But Stan barely ever removed his hat, even less then he did when they were kids. Kyle absentmindedly stroked Stan's soft black hair, watching the snow fall lightly onto the window.

* * *

Stan jolted awake as he felt his hair being ripped from his head. He looked around wildly, finding Kyle grasping onto Stan's hat for dear life and clutching his knees to his chest, pressed up against the corner where the wall and his bed met. 

"Dude, what happened?" Stan asked slightly irritated and very confused.

Kyle managed to point a shaky finger towards the window, his eyes wide with fear.

Stan got up and walked over to the window. He couldn't see out of it, but as he approached the window, he saw long, deep scratches and droplets of blood embedded into the window.

"Holy shit…" Stan backed away from the window slowly, "Holy…Kyle, did you see…?"

Kyle nodded fearfully. Stan walked quickly to his friend and embraced him, half in fear and half in comfort.

"Your…your hat…" Kyle managed to say after a few awkward moments of silence, abruptly shoving it at his friend.

Stan blinked in confusion. He touched his head and found his hair was free from its usual woolen confines.

He snatched the hat and stared at it, but didn't put it back on. "Thanks."

Kyle nodded. Noticing Stan wasn't putting on the hat, he hesitantly reached out and touched the black hair. Very few people saw Stan without his hat. Not his parents. Not his friends. Not Shelly when she beat him up, though that didn't happen often anymore. Not Wendy, she had claimed Stan was always hiding something from her, like his hair, before she dumped him for Clyde two years ago. Not even Kyle. But Kyle had seen it the most. This made the fourth time since they left the South Park Elementary School.

And this, this felt right.

Ignoring the growing blush, Stan stood up and held out a hand to Kyle. "We should tell Kenny and Cartman about-" Stan stopped short, not sure how to approach the terrifying advancements and just quickly darted his glance to the window.

Kyle took his hand and got up, attempting to lead his friend downstairs in order to regain some control over the situation. For a second, both boys stood next to the bed, holding hands, unsure of anything.

Kyle released Stan's hand and whispered a thank you before exiting the room and calling out for Kenny and the 'fatass'.

* * *

"So you're trying to tell me that there were scratches with blood in them in your window?" 

"Yes."

"Like actual scratches _in the window?"_

"…yes."

"With _blood_ in it?"

"(Goddamit, Cartman! _What _part don't you understand?)"

"Geez, Kenny. You don't have to go and spazz out on me or anything. I was just asking a few questions."

Kenny tightened his fists and muttered a string of incoherent curses while falling onto the couch in the living room.

"I totally agree," Kyle told Kenny as Stan rolled his eyes.

* * *

The boys sat in a circle for quite some time playing card games and entertaining themselves with mindless drabbles. For ten minutes, Kyle had been looking uncomfortable. Stan, noticing his best friend's discomfort asked what was wrong. 

Kyle leaned over and whispered into his ear, his warm breath tickling Stan's ear. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"So go," Stan advised, not concerned about the volume of his voice and a little confused at why Kyle was so distressed.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Kyle took a deep breath and finally whispered, "…I'm scared."

"Aw, poor wittle Kyle. He's scared. Please help him oh strong protector Stan," Cartman teased insensitively.

Kyle looked at the floor in shame. Stan just glared at his companions and grabbed Kyle's arm, leading him to the closest bathroom.

* * *

"But what if the killer tries to get me while the door is closed?" 

Stan sighed again. "You'll be fine."

Kyle's eyes pleaded with him. The fear shone through, but he nodded. "If you say so…"

Stan sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright. Fine, but this doesn't get out to anyone. Got it?"

"You think I would want the fatass to know? Stan, I hold you in much higher respects then that!"

Stan smiled at Kyle and walked into the small, tiled bathroom with Kyle and faced the door as he closed it.

"Thanks, Stan."

"It's no problem."

"No, but seriously, you are the superbestest friend ever."

Stan smiled at Kyle words, still facing the door.

"It's okay, Kyle…I'm scared, too."

* * *

When Kyle and Stan returned to the family room, Cartman and Kenny were in an intense game of 'Go Fish.' Kenny picked up the last card and happily smiled, "I got my wish!" 

"I hate you, Kenny."

Kyle laughed, making their presence known, "Sore loser."

Before Cartman could make a crude response, there was a soft knocking at the door.

Everyone's eyes widened as they stared at the door.

"Guys, um…hide under tables and stuff. Quick!" Stan whispered, unsure how to handle the situation.

The knocking became more persistent as each boy divided under a piece of furniture and laid there, shaking.

The person at the door let out a frustrated growl and stopped knocking.

Kyle let out the breath he'd been holding. "That was-"

"Was what?" Stan asked.

Kyle's eyes were wide with fear and Stan looked in the direction he was staring at- the window. A dark figure was lurking about, going to the windows and trying to see inside.

"Cartman, Kenny," Stan whispered to them from across the room, taking charge he continued, "We are gonna make a dash for the stairs and go into my room. We'll close all the curtains on the way and not let our presence be known. Got it?"

Kenny nodded from under the couch while Cartman barely moved his head to comply with the orders.

"1…2…3…go!"

They all made a mad dash for the stairs that led to Stan's room. None of them remembered to close the curtains, as they were too consumed by fear.

For the next few hours, the boys sat in silence in Stan's room. No one could fall asleep and no one would talk. They listened to the wind blowing the trees and the branches scratching the roof and windows for the next few hours until dawn arose.

When the light was finally adequate, the boys ventured back downstairs, less wary of the threatening horrors of the night.

* * *

Cartman opened the door. "Oh my God, guys. There's a dead, bloody crow on your porch! It must be an omen…like God is trying to tell us something. Yes, that's it! Stan, he's marked you down if you don't stop hanging out with the Jew. Can't you see it?" 

Kyle's eyes blazed with anger. But Kyle wasn't the one that tried to attack Cartman this time, it was Stan, who was held back by Kyle.

Kenny walked passed his two friends and tapped Cartman on the shoulder in order to gain his attention. When he did, Kenny's arm shot out and punched Cartman square in the face, knocking him cold.

"Can we please leave him outside?" Kyle begged.

"And have the cops on us for murder? I think I'll put him in the garage."

Kyle and Kenny nodded, though Kyle was a little disappointed at the loss of revenge.

"Maybe next blizzard?" Kyle asked hopefully.

The other two shrugged as they dragged their overweight friend into a very cold garage.

* * *

THE END…but for those of you who want a little more of an explanation…

* * *

"Ugh…" Cartman blinked several times to get his vision clear. His head ached and everything was blurry. 

"We were starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up," a blurry orange figure greeted him.

"More like hoped you wouldn't ever wake up," the blued-headed figure said, staring accusingly at the green-headed figure, but he just looked the other way.

Cartman groaned, his vision sharpened slightly and he recognized the figures almost immediately.

"…guys?"

The three boys just looked at their friend with raised eyebrows.

"Pull yourself together, dude!" the figure Cartman realized to be Stan said.

Cartman sat up. His hands met cold, sandy cement from the garage floor as he tried to push himself in the upright position.

"Seriouslah, guys, the garage?"

"Well, we really couldn't carry you much farther." Kyle responded offhandedly.

"Ay!"

"We thought you'd be conscious in a minute or two…not a couple of hours later," Stan said,

"Whatevah, you guys. I'ma going home."

"Good."

"Goddamnit, Jew. If you don't shut your mouth right now, I'll…I'll…"

"You'll what?" Kyle asked from his seat on the wooden bench Stan made in woodshop last year.

"I hate you guys."

"It's mutual," Kyle retorted smartly.

"Okay, okay, you got it out of your system! _Now _can we please just get on with it?" Stan interrupted.

"I guess…" Kyle gave in.

Cartman just turned his head the other way and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Okay, so here's the deal. Kenny, would you like to tell Cartman what happened, since you figured it out?"

"(Yes, thank you, Stan. Now, here's what happened: We went to Stan's house. Parent's were all out and an unexpected blizzard comes. I mean, seriously, it's a _blizzard, _how can you not predicted it! I could do a better job than those so-called weathermen do-)"

"Kenny, the story!" Stan commanded.

"(Right! So, what happened was that the snow caused a power line to go out and so we didn't have any power…still don't actually. When Kyle got hysterical-)"

"I was **not **hysterical!"

"(As I was saying, when Kyle got hysterical, Stan brought him upstairs, where he saw bloody scratch marks in the window. Those were caused by a confused crow looking for shelter. It froze in the snow after it lost too much blood, and we discovered him on Stan's porch before I punched you. After some, um, events occurred, there was a knock at the door. It was Shelly. She was sent by our parents to see if we were okay. The storm had died down and she was able to drive the several blocks to Stan's house. After we didn't answer the door, she tried to get in through the windows, tapping and doing whatever she could. She was the figure we saw. Eventually, she got too cold and left. Our parents came here around dawn, which was a few hours after Shelly left. They are in the house now. They told us to stay with you in case you woke up instead of playing video games, which I can say is a lot more fun.)"

"I was winning that race, too," Kyle grumbled.

"Well, guys, I can believe the story, but Kyle winning the race, that's impossible."

"Hey!"

"Here they go again…" Stan muttered to Kenny as he shook his head and walked out of the garage and into his home.

* * *

THE END…again

* * *

So, what do you think? Good, bad? Any criticism or responses are greatly appreciated. I'm sorry it took so long, but thank you so much for your support in this story. 


End file.
